


The Road to Fatherhood

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Draco’s fears prevent Harry from having the one thing he wants most?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Fatherhood

The Road to Fatherhood

Draco stood in the bedroom doorway, one shoulder against the doorjamb, a smirk on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest. He watched as Harry slid the small pillow under his shirt and gently patted the bump it caused.

Draco smiled before he spoke. “Harry?”

Harry jumped, pulling the pillow out of his shirt, his face turning a shade of scarlet that always made Draco want to throw Harry to the floor and do all kinds of improper things to him. He settled for crossing the room and pulling Harry into a deep, languid kiss.

“You know we’ve had this discussion before, right?” Draco said softly. “I’m just not sure —”

Harry cut him off with a glare, as he took a step back. “I know, Draco, I know. You’ve given me all the reasons. It’s not the right time, our jobs keep us too busy, we haven’t been married for that long. Did I cover them all? Well maybe those are good reasons. For you. Maybe it is the right time for me. Did you ever just once stop to think about that?”

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that the time had come to finish the _let’s have children now_ discussion. They had tried to do it several times before, but the conversation had always ended with Draco storming from the room. He was also fairly certain that Harry was convinced Draco didn’t want children, when nothing could be further from the truth. 

Draco pulled Harry into his arms and kissed his temple. “Yes, I have thought about that. Quite a bit lately, in fact. And before you get your knickers in a twist, I want to talk about things with you.” He tightened his grip on Harry and manoeuvred him towards the couch in the front room, pulling him onto his lap as they sat down.

“I know what you’re going to tell me, Draco,” Harry said dejectedly. “And it’s alright. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“Well see, Harry...” Draco ran his fingers gently down Harry’s arm as he spoke: “I’m not certain I’ll ever really be ready.”

Harry stiffened and tried to move away, causing Draco to tighten his hold on his husband. “If you’d let me finish before you run, I’d appreciate it. Now as I was saying...” Draco felt Harry’s arm relax slightly under his fingers. “I’m not certain that I’ll ever be ready. But, and this is a very big but — not for the reasons you think. It’s not so much about timing or work or anything of the sort, although yes, they do come into play.”

“Then tell me why you don’t want to have children with me?” Harry turned to face Draco.

“Oh Merlin, Harry, that’s not it at all. I do want to have children with you. It’s just that —” Draco hung his head, unable to look Harry in the eye as he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t…” Draco took a deep breath and steeled himself. Admitting what he was about to say was difficult: “I don’t think I’d be a good father. I don’t know, but I can’t help but think I’m not cut out to be a parent.”

Harry smiled, pulled Draco closer and placed a kiss on the end of his nose. “Outside of Molly Weasley, I don’t think anyone is ever completely ready to be a parent. I suspect it’s a learning experience, from the minute you decide to make a new life. Shite, Draco, I don’t know if I could be a good father. I certainly never had one around to teach me how to do it, but I’m willing to try. Maybe it’s not so much knowing what you’re doing all the time as it is being willing to learn that makes you a good parent.”

“But what if I’m as strict as my father was with me?” 

Harry shifted, moving so he was now sitting next to Draco on the couch. “We can play the _what if_ game for the next five years, Draco, but you’ll be playing that game on your own. I’m not willing to do that. Five years, fifty years, tomorrow—it’d always be there; you’d always be worried about it.” Harry stood and moved towards the hallway. “Listen, I’m not saying we have to make a decision tonight or even next week, but I’d like us to come to a decision sometime. If it’s not going to happen for us, I guess I need to know, so I can make my peace with it and move on.” 

Draco felt like a complete arse as he watched Harry walk down the hall. He had not seen Harry look so dejected in several years and it upset him to know that he was the one to cause Harry such pain. He knew he should run after him and tell Harry that he really did want to start a family, but the words stuck in his throat and would not come out. Would he really mean them? Or would it simply be a panacea—the right thing to say? For the first time in nearly five years, Draco slept on the couch.

The next two weeks were absolute hell. Draco had moved back into their bed the following night, and they continued to talk about inconsequential things, but neither one brought up the one thing that was constantly on each other’s minds. And, as if barely talking was not bad enough, the icing on the cake, as far as Draco was concerned, was that sex had become uninspired. They went through the motions, but Draco felt certain that Harry was dissatisfied when it was over. He couldn’t blame him; Draco felt much the same.

Draco knew that all he had to do was to tell Harry that he was ready to start a family and things would be back to normal, but he just couldn’t seem to do it. He woke on Saturday, two weeks and four days after their argument, and he knew that if he didn’t do something soon, the rift between them would be nearly irreparable. After jotting a quick note to Harry telling him that he was going to see Pansy, he stepped into the Floo, calling out Pansy and Theo’s address.

He stepped from the Floo at the other end of the connection into Pansy and Theo’s living room and tripped over a toy left on the floor. He gave a small snort of disgust at the mess lying about the room. Hardly a spot on the floor could be found that did not have some toy splayed across it. He found Pansy sitting on the couch directly opposite the fireplace, holding a sleeping baby, while her oldest child scribbled on some parchment with Muggle crayons. 

Pansy smiled brightly at Draco. “Hello, love! What a pleasant surprise. I’m sorry the place is such a mess. Basil decided he needed to get up with the sunrise this morning. It was easier to let him play than try to make him sleep more. Then Ivy woke up about an hour ago, drank her bottle, and promptly fell back to sleep.”

“Shouldn’t you teach him to be neat?” Draco asked, carefully making his way to the only chair in the room not littered with toys. “If I had—” Draco stopped himself, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “Oh shite, Pansy! That is exactly why I should not be a father. Don’t you see? I can’t do it.”

Pansy’s hand flew up to cover her mouth; she struggled to put her thoughts into a complete sentence. “Are you? Is Harry? Oh Merlin!” 

“Am I what?” 

“Wait just a minute,” Pansy said, standing while she spoke. “Let me put Ivy back in her crib and call Sally to take Basil to the playroom. Then you and I can talk like adults.” She called out to the house-elf, who had been their nanny since Basil was born. Sally arrived quickly, took the pensive three-year-old by the hand, and followed Pansy to the children’s wing. 

Several moments later, Pansy burst back into the room and gathered Draco in her arms. “So, which one of you is pregnant?”

“Pregnant?” Draco sputtered. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”

Pansy flopped down on the couch, her lower lip jutting out in a small pout, and crossed her arms on her chest. “I got the idea from you panicking over being a father. What else could you have meant?” Her eyes grew large and round as realisation worked its way to her sleep-deprived brain.

“Pans, I don’t know what to do,” Draco said softly. “Harry wants to start a family.”

It became obvious that Pansy still didn’t fully understand. “And...?”

Draco grew agitated. “Look at how I reacted to the toys on the floor! I sounded just like Lucius.” Draco’s breath hitched at the very thought of it; he felt on the verge of crying. “And I don’t want to be a father like him, but I don’t know how to act differently. How did you and Theo decide you were ready to start a family?”

Pansy laughed and re-adjusted herself to get more comfortable, sliding one foot under her other leg. “Apparently you are much older than you look if your memory is so bad you don’t remember that we didn’t plan Basil at all.”

Draco looked confused. “I thought Basil was planned and Ivy was the _oops_ , not the other way around.”

Pansy looked angry. “While I understand the sentiment, I’m not sure I appreciate you calling either of my children an _oops_. We may not have planned on having a baby so soon after we were married, but I don’t regret either of them one single bit.”

Draco stood and quickly crossed the room, sitting on the arm of the couch and pulling Pansy into a hug. “I didn’t mean it like that, Pans. See? This is just another example of why I should not be a father. I speak without thinking and am far too judgemental.”

“Oh for the love of Merlin, Draco,” Pansy spat. “Stop being so damn dramatic!” She pulled away from Draco’s embrace. “Do you think you’re the only person on the face of the earth who has doubted their ability to parent? You can be so bloody thick sometimes! And isn’t it about time you stopped thinking you’re so much like Lucius? The similarities end at your looks. Can you for one minute imagine Lucius even talking about his feelings?”

“But...”

“But nothing,” Pansy said, standing to move about the room, picking up the toys scattered on the floor. “This can’t be a surprise to you that Harry wants a family. I’ve only known him well for four years and I understand. Frankly, Draco, you’re practically pushing him to find someone who _is_ willing to do anything to be with _the Boy Who Lived_ — including start a family. Apparently, you aren’t half the man I always thought you were, as you’ve got neither the bollocks nor the good sense you were born with to look at this from another perspective. And as you are obviously not _father material_ , then I suppose it is best if you break things off now and let him find someone who is better suited to filling his needs." 

Draco looked insulted; his eyes narrowed. “And just what is that supposed to mean, not father material?”

Pansy walked over to the toy box in the corner of the room and dropped the toys in it. “Draco, you’ve been spouting since you came through the Floo—” She stopped herself. When she turned around, Draco was surprised to find her once-icy glares had melted. She looked more as she had done when they were teenagers at Hogwarts than a loving mother of two; singularly more troubling than angry, shouty Pansy, actually. 

She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe you’re right… maybe you don’t have what it takes to be a father…”

“I…? What…?”

Pansy walked back to the couch and sat down, crossing one leg over the other in that prim manner Draco hadn’t seen from her in ages. “Oh, darling, I’m just agreeing with you.”

“You…? Huh?”

“I mean, anyone can look at you and see you haven’t a paternal bone in your body.”

“I…? What…?”

She leaned forward with a ruthlessly sincere expression on her face and patted Draco’s knee. “I’m glad you came to your senses.”

“You…? I’m not…? Huh?”

She sighed and let out a breathy, “Harry would be a fool to start a family with the likes of you.” 

Pansy stared intensely at Draco. Her nose twitched, almost imperceptibly. But Draco had perceived it many times, knew what to look for, and knew what it meant—he had just never been on the receiving end of it before. As Draco began to stew, Pansy placed her hands in her lap and turned to stare off at something in front of her, without so much as another word, as though Draco wasn’t there at all.

“How dare you?” Draco sputtered, his face red with anger. “I’ll have you know I’m the only one Harry will be starting a family with, Pansy, and if you can’t accept that — well then you’re just not welcome in our home anymore.” Draco turned and quickly strode to the fireplace, throwing the Floo powder inside, barely shouting out, _Draco and Harry’s flat_ before stepping inside and back home, completely missing the smirk that crossed Pansy’s lips.

ooOOoo

Harry heard the Floo activate and braced himself for Draco’s return. He hoped that Pansy had been able to talk some sense into his husband. He was not, however, prepared for the scowling man that emerged from the fireplace, brushing off his clothing and muttering about _stupid bints with their heads up their arses_.

He was even less prepared for his husband to cross the room in three long strides, pull him into his arms and growl, _let’s go make a baby_. 

Harry stiffened in Draco’s arms before forcefully pushing him, causing Draco to stumble against the coffee table. “Fuck, Harry!” he cried out, rubbing the side of his leg. “What is wrong with you? Isn’t that what you want?” 

“What I want, Draco, is for you to actually want to start a family with me, not to start one because Pansy said something that pissed you off or convinced you of something completely asinine,” Harry replied, struggling to maintain his composure. “So when you decide that a family is something you really want, come talk to me. Until then, this conversation is over.”

Harry turned and started to walk from the room, when he felt Draco grab his arm. “Wait,” he said softly.

Pausing, Harry lowered his head. “I’ve already been waiting, Draco, I’ve been waiting for two weeks for you to come to me and explain what is going on in your head. When I woke up this morning, I was happy that you had gone out. I had hoped that by going to see Pansy you would open up to her, tell her what is going on in your head—” he snorted, “since, apparently, it’s not something you want to talk to your husband about. Obviously, I was wrong again.”

He pulled his arm out of Draco’s grasp and left the room. Harry walked into their bedroom and sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. He felt a strong need to get out of their flat, to go and talk to someone. But how do you tell your happily married friends that your husband does not want to have children with you? Especially when they just announced that Hermione was expecting. Ron would start in on how selfish Draco was and Merlin only knows how Hermione would react, given her hormonally-charged state of mind. No, he needed to talk to someone who wouldn’t really talk so much as listen. Someone who would neither try to change his mind nor convince him that Draco was a prat. He was quite aware of every one of Draco’s short comings and loved him nonetheless. 

Harry lay back onto the bed, raising his hands to rub his face as tears formed in his eyes. He mentally ran down the list of who he might be able to talk to and sat bolt upright as the perfect solution came into his head. Not even taking time to write Draco a note, he Apparated out of the flat, reappearing near the war memorial in the centre of Godric's Hollow. 

He stood and stared as it transformed into the memorial to his parents. Smiling, he traced his hand along the base of the monument, hesitating for quite some time to gather his thoughts before he went to see them. 

Once he felt better he began to walk towards the church, stopping when he reached the iron gate of the short fence that surrounded the small cemetery where his parents lay.

Harry unlatched the rusty hook and opened the gate, pausing to close it after walking into the enclosed area. He realized that he hadn’t the foresight to bring some flowers, and he felt bad for it. He crouched in front of the headstones, tracing their names with a slightly trembling finger, and waited for the sense of calm he had come to expect whenever he visited. 

Even though he had been there several times to get things off his chest, he was never quite sure how to start once he was there. Sitting on the ground near the headstone, his legs crossed, he leaned over to rest his shoulder against the cool marble. “Hi, Mum, Dad, umm... it’s me... Harry.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “I suppose you know already what’s going on in my life. I mean, you are watching over me and all that, so I guess you know what I want to talk about. But I still feel like I need to say it out loud, so here I am.” Harry smiled softly, thinking about how Draco loved to tease him when he was nervous and rambling on and on about nothing.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “You see, I really want to start a family. I know Draco and I are still young, but I just feel like the time is right. I tried to talk to Draco about it a few weeks ago. I thought I understood him and what he was worried about, but bugger all if he didn’t shock me with his reasons. He seems to think that he is too much like his father. That he will be too strict with our children. I tried to tell him that it takes both parents to balance things out, but, Mum, he won’t even talk to me about it. We’ve barely spoken for two weeks and when we have se...ummm, well, when we do, it’s like we’re just doing it because we think we should. I can’t remember the last time we actually held each other or even spent ten minutes in a room together that didn’t involve eating.” 

Harry wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. “Then today he went to visit Pansy. You both remember me talking about Pansy, right? Well she’s his best mate, like Ron is mine, only a girl. But it’s alright because she’s happily married. They, well she and her husband, Theo, have the most adorable children. Ivy is just a little baby and she’s kind of what made me begin to think about starting a family with Draco. Merlin, I keep rambling. Anyway, I had hoped that Pansy would be able to talk some sense into Draco and tell him that he’s not like his father and that he’d make a wonderful parent. I truly believe he would, but he seems to think that he wouldn’t. So there you go.”

Taking a breath, he smacked himself in the head and rolled his shoulders. “I don’t know what Pansy said to him, but Draco came back home spitting mad, and he practically demanded we go make a baby right then and there. It felt so good to be in his arms again, I almost said yes. But then I realized that we had never talked about the reasons Draco didn’t think he would be a good father, and then the whole thing just felt... wrong.”

He leaned forward, picking at the grass, his voice becoming soft and earnest. “Mum, I think he’ll make a really great father. I wish he could see what I see in him. He’s so passionate about the things he _really_ believes in, you know, not all that _pure-blood_ shite his own father used to make him spout. Dad, remember when I told you how Draco had started helping war orphans? It was amazing to see him fight for better facilities. And he still serves on the board for five of them, Dad, five! And he is loyal to a fault. I never told you, because he doesn’t think I know, but he has helped out every single one of his Slytherin friends that changed sides during the war. It didn’t matter to him if they changed sides early or late in the war, what mattered to Draco is that they did change sides before it was over.”

A smile came to his lips as he continued, “And you know, with his sense of humour, he’d be perfect around our children. I can see him in my head when we’ve played in the snow. The way his face lights up when he’s building a fort or making angels in the snow, it’s so beautiful. Could you imagine it, Mum? A little girl with his hair and your eyes?”

Harry sat silently for several minutes before wiping the tears from his eyes and standing slowly. He brushed off the seat of his jeans before leaning down to place a kiss on the headstone. “Thanks for listening, like you always do. Now I suppose it’s time to go home and tell Draco all the reasons I think he’ll make a great father.” He turned towards the gate and froze. Standing on the other side of the fence was Draco.

ooOOoo

When Draco heard the crack of Harry’s Apparition, he felt himself go cold inside— surely Harry hadn't left him for good? “Not that I blame him,” he said quietly to no one. “I really bollixed things up this time.” He sat on the couch for a few minutes before lying on his side and curling himself into a ball, his hands tucked under his head. The day’s events ran through his brain over and over.

He replayed his conversation with Pansy in his head again, quickly realising that she had manipulated him quite well. She knew all of his insecurities and had done a masterful job of hitting very nearly every one. Draco snorted and laughed, thinking, _If I wasn’t so damn angry at her, I’d congratulate her on a job well done._

Draco knew he needed to talk to Harry about his fears, but a Malfoy didn’t talk about such drivel. A Malfoy knew no fear. _Bullshit_ , he thought. _Maybe Pansy is right. Maybe I’m not like my father at all. Harry was raised by those abominable Muggles and he turned out all right. Maybe I can learn how to be a father._

Rolling onto his back, Draco sighed. “Who am I trying to fool?” he yelled out to the empty room, throwing a pillow in frustration. “The first time the baby is sick on me, I’ll end up tossing it away!” 

Time passed at a snail’s pace before Draco finally stood up, deciding to take matters into his own hands. But the moment his feet hit the floor, he began pacing and muttering. “This can’t be difficult. I just need to be around a baby. Prove to myself I can do this. Then I can tell Harry and things will be fine. Now, where the hell do I find a baby?”

Draco ran through the very short list of people he knew that had recently had babies. Suddenly he stopped pacing, hit himself in the head and laughed. “How could I be such an arse? The answer was right in front of my face all this time!”

Giving a quick glance in the mirror, he smiled and Apparated away, arriving at his destination moments later. He strode purposefully inside, not stopping until he was at the nurse’s desk in the baby ward of the orphanage.

He stayed for nearly an hour, sometimes asking questions, but more often than not, just standing and staring into the cradle or running his hand gently across the softest skin he had ever felt. When the nurse placed a tiny bundle in his arms, Draco nearly cried from the overwhelming sense of peace it brought him. He knew he needed to talk to Harry, and in that instant, he knew exactly where to find him.

Draco thanked the nurse for all her help and quickly left the building, Apparating as soon he was outside. He landed near the wrought iron fence that encircled the small cemetery that held the bodies of the Potter family. Draco smiled when he saw Harry leaning comfortably against the headstone; he knew he was talking to his parents. 

Placing a hand on the gate, he moved to open it when Harry’s words stopped him in his tracks. “I wish he could see the things that I see in him. He’s so passionate about the things he _really_ believes in, not all that _pure-blood_ shite his own father used to make him spout.”

Draco knew he should make his presence known, that he should stop listening to Harry’s private conversation. Yet he stood very still and listened to his husband tell his parents just exactly why he loved Draco so much. In that moment, Draco knew that there was nothing on earth he would not do for Harry — including working through his own fears and starting a family with the man he loved.

ooOOoo

At first, Harry was angry to see his husband standing at the cemetery gate, but something in the look on Draco’s face kept him from yelling. Instead, when he spoke, his tone was calm and soft. “Didn’t your mother teach you it’s impolite to eavesdrop? How long have you been standing there?”

Draco had the decency to blush. “Long enough.” He paused. “Fine, long enough to hear you sing my praises to your mum and dad and long enough to come to a decision.”

Draco saw the flicker of fear that flashed in Harry’s eyes before he could get his emotions under control.

“Don’t worry,” Draco said, opening the gate. “But we need to talk, and this time I need you to listen to everything I have to say before you walk away.”

Harry simply nodded and held his tongue. He walked through the gate towards Draco, pulling it closed behind him, and stood uneasily in front of Draco, unsure of what to do next. 

Seeing Harry so anxious frustrated Draco, but he knew that he needed to help Harry understand what was going on in his head. Biting back a sigh, he smiled and pressed a chaste kiss on Harry’s temple while wrapping his arms around his husband and using Side-Along-Apparition to take them home.

When they landed in their living room, Harry moved to pull away, only to find himself being held even tighter in Draco’s arms. “Please,” Draco whispered, so softly it was barely audible. 

Nervous, Draco hoped that Harry would hear the desperation in his voice and understand the unspoken plea for them to remain connected, touching. Harry needed to know that he was the one person who Draco trusted to bare his soul to. Finally, he felt Harry move them to the couch, where he sat with his back against the arm of the couch. He pulled Draco into the vee between his legs, so that Draco’s back was resting against his chest. 

“Talk to me, love,” Harry said softly. “I want to understand, I really do, but I can’t if you shut me out. Haven’t you realized by now that together there is not anything we can’t do? We’re quite a formidable team, Mr Malfoy.” Harry shifted to make them both more comfortable and waited for Draco to start.

“It’s so hard to put into words that will make you understand,” Draco said in a rush of words. “I’m terrified, Harry. I’m scared that I won’t love our child enough or that you’ll love it more than you love me. I know that makes me sound very selfish and I guess I really am. I’m scared that when it comes time to discipline our child I’ll be as strict as my father was and I could never bear it if our child hated me the way I hated my father.” 

Draco swallowed hard. “But then, today I went to Lily’s Haven and watched the babies. They were amazing, Harry. They were so small, but all the nurses knew just what they needed when they cried and I wondered if I could figure that out,” he said, blushing, feeling Harry chuckle against his back. 

“When the nurse set a baby in my arms, it was like my whole world changed. I never held Basil or Ivy, they were too small — I was afraid I’d drop them or break them or something. But there was this baby. She’s been adopted or I swear to Merlin I’d have brought her home with me. Well, she looked up at me as if I were the most important thing in the whole world.” Draco’s voice became quiet again, as he shifted to lay his head on Harry’s chest. “You are the only other person who ever looked at me like that and I figured that maybe, just maybe, together...with you by my side...we could do this.”

Harry took hold of Draco’s chin and tipped his face up, tenderly kissing the end of Draco’s nose. Draco smiled. “I need to finish before I lose my nerve. When I left Lily’s, I Apparated to the cemetery. I didn’t intend to listen, but once you started talking about me, I couldn’t leave. When you finished telling your parents all the things you loved about me, I knew, without a doubt, that we could do this; that whatever fears I have, and believe me there are more than the ones we’ve talked about, we could work through them and we could have a family. Together.”

Draco twisted around so that he was facing Harry. “And I think we should start trying right now,” he said with a wink.

Harry pulled him into a deep, mind-numbing kiss. They kissed for several minutes, drawing in little gasps of air when they needed to breathe. 

When the kiss ended, Harry pulled back and looked deeply into Draco's eyes, running his hand down the side of his face. “There are still some things that need to be discussed and I should see Poppy before I become pregnant, but tonight I’m going to show you exactly how much I love you, Mr Malfoy. After all, it might just be my last chance to _top_ for a while,” he said, a devilish grin stretching across his face.

Harry stood quickly, lifting Draco into his arms and carrying him down the hall to their bedroom. “Put me down, you brute!” Draco laughed. “I’m no bloody damsel in distress!”

“That’s for damn sure! More like a sack of potatoes,” Harry teased, his voice straining. “Now quit wiggling before I drop your arse on the floor.”

Harry plopped Draco onto the bed and with a wave of his hand, Vanished their clothes. Harry knelt on the end of the bed, eyeing Draco hungrily. It had been far too long since they'd truly been together and Harry intended to thoroughly enjoy the feast laid out before him. He slowly moved towards Draco, like a cat stalking his prey. Harry knew that Draco loved it when he allowed himself to get to such an intense level of arousal. Harry grinned ferally, knowing Draco was content to lie back and enjoy the ride.

Pressing Draco back against the pillows, Harry slid the wet tip of his prick up Draco’s leg, teasing along its path. When their cocks met, Harry paused, shifting to align them together before stretching up to kiss Draco. He swept his tongue through Draco’s mouth, as if re-learning each part of it, while their pricks rubbed together. 

Draco groaned when Harry released his mouth, and it turned into a contented sigh when Harry’s lips latched onto a nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Harry continued to nip and suck until the nub was erect and swollen, red from the attention bestowed upon it. He kissed a line across Draco’s pale skin towards the other nipple, took it between his teeth, and lavished it with the same attention.

“More,” Draco panted. “I need you.”

“You have me, Draco,” Harry whispered, raising his eyes to meet Draco’s and placing his hand over Draco’s heart. “Never doubt that.” 

Harry felt Draco’s heart skip a beat as they looked deep into each other’s eyes. 

True to his words, Harry began to worship Draco’s body with both hands and mouth. He kissed his way down Draco’s stomach, pausing to swirl his tongue in and around Draco’s navel. He buried his nose in the blond curls that showcased Draco’s cock, but refused to pay any attention to the throbbing shaft, even when Draco twisted and heaved so that it was nearly under his nose. 

“This is my feast, Draco, and I intend to enjoy it — slowly and completely,” Harry said with a chuckle, moving to nip at the juncture where the leg met the hip. He kissed his way down Draco’s left leg and then up the right, stopping to lick the soft skin of Draco’s bollocks before pulling them into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. 

Draco whimpered when Harry released them from his mouth. Harry quickly placed his hands under Draco’s arse and lifted it slightly to bring his puckered entrance into view. Harry licked his lips before placing them around the pink hole, sliding his tongue across it. He licked and sucked, enjoying every lap, until the blond was a quivering mass, pleading for more.

“Now... now... now,” Draco chanted, incoherent with desire. When Harry’s tongue breached his guarding muscle, Draco planted his feet on the bed and began to rock back and forth. Harry recognized the motion as his silent plea for more. Harry continued to thrust his tongue into Draco, occasionally pulling back to kiss the heated flesh surrounding Draco’s hole. 

Harry rose onto his knees, reaching towards the bedside table and picking up the _ever-present_ jar of lube. After quickly opening the jar, Harry returned to his previous position and darted his tongue in and out of Draco’s arse in rapid succession. 

Adding a finger alongside his tongue, Harry rubbed gently over Draco’s prostate. Harry knew Draco’s world was about to explode as he felt Draco’s bollucks pull up against his body. Moments later, Draco’s orgasm splashed onto his stomach. 

Harry slid up Draco’s body, peppering his face with soft kisses, and lined up his cock with Draco’s arse. He pressed forward slowly, only stopping to give Draco a moment to adjust when he felt the head of his prick pass through the loosened muscle. 

“Now,” Draco whispered, pressing his arse towards Harry. 

Harry pushed forward slowly, bending to suck and tease Draco’s nipples. He felt Draco’s cooling semen between their bodies as he pulled out and thrust back into Draco in the steady, rocking rhythm he knew his husband loved.

Closing his eyes, Harry imagined he was watching himself make love to Draco. He felt the sway of his hips and the gentle friction of his prick gliding in and out of Draco. The sensations were so good that when he came, forcefully, his eyes flew open in surprise, a small “Oh,” coming out of his mouth. 

Harry collapsed on Draco and quickly shifted his weight off to one side. Casting a wandless Cleaning Spell to guarantee they would not be _glued_ together in the morning, Harry pulled the covers up over their cooling bodies as he shifted to rest his head over Draco’s heart, their fingers entwined.

ooOOoo

Draco awoke early the next morning and smiled down at the man sleeping in his arms. He knew he’d made the right decision yesterday and now he was anxious to get things moving. Where once he had seemed determined to not become a father, now he was anxious to start the steps necessary to assure that Harry would be able to carry a child.

Draco slipped out of bed, padded to the bath, and started the shower. The stall filled with steam and Draco moved under the spray, soaped up his flannel, and started to scrub the last reminders of the previous evening off his skin. Working quickly, he finished his shower and was rubbing a towel over his hair when Harry came into the bathroom. 

“Finished already?” Harry said with a pout. “I was hoping to join you.” He reached over and gave a slow pull on Draco’s soft prick. 

Draco laughed and backed away. “Nice try, lover boy, but we have loads of things to deal with today. We need to contact Poppy for an appointment, and I need to speak to Severus to arrange for the potions you’ll need — far too many things to do to be shagging this morning.”

Harry stepped back, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?” he quipped. 

Draco snapped Harry’s naked arse with the towel. “Hurry and take a shower, I'll get breakfast ready.” He glared at Harry, before giving him a shove. “Go —" 

Harry grumbled something about a _git_ , but turned on the tap and stepped into the shower. Smiling, Draco finished his morning ritual and went to the bedroom to dress. Soon he was in the kitchen, the kettle on and some croissants warming in the oven. 

Taking advantage of the few minutes he had, he stepped over to the fireplace and placed a Floo call to Poppy Pomfrey who was still the school nurse at Hogwarts even after all these years." 

“Good morning, Poppy,” Draco said, giving her a wide smile. “We were wondering if you might have some time for us to stop by today?”

She looked concerned. “Are either of you ill?"

“No, no, we’re both fine,” Draco reassured her. “We’ll explain everything when we see you. Are you able to fit us in today?”

“Oh, well, then... let’s make it shortly. Say about an hour? That should give me plenty of time to sort out the Slytherins who managed to hex each other with a Colour Change Charm this morning.” She laughed at Draco’s reaction, and cut him off with a raise of her hand. “Don’t ask — some things are much better left to the imagination. I look forward to seeing you both in an hour.”

Pulling his head from the fire, Draco laughed and made his way back to the kitchen. He filled the teapot with hot water, allowing it to brew. Crossing the kitchen, he opened the oven and pulled out the croissants. Draco placed the warmed pastries in a basket, grabbing the jam from the counter as he returned to the table. 

Harry walked in, sniffing the air. “Smells delightful,” he said, sitting down at the table and pouring them both a cup of tea. Draco handed Harry a croissant and the jam, pausing to take a sip of his tea before carefully eating his croissant. 

“I put a call into Poppy a few minutes ago,” Draco said casually. “She expects us in about forty-five minutes.” 

Harry looked surprised, but nodded. He tore at his croissant, before brushing his hands together and pushing the plate away.

Reaching across the table, Draco covered Harry’s hand with one of his own. “Nervous?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t until right now. What if she tells me I’m not able to carry a child? What if there is residual damage from the war that no one ever bothered to look for?” Harry stood, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Then we look into alternatives,” Draco replied as he stood and walked over to gather Harry into his arms. “But whatever happens, we do this together, agreed?”

Harry covered Draco’s mouth with his own, tenderly running his tongue across Draco’s bottom lip. Draco playfully nipped at Harry’s tongue. They teased each other with tiny nibbles and bites until Draco slid his tongue into Harry’s mouth, turning their light-hearted teasing into a deep seduction of breath-stealing kisses. 

Reluctantly Draco pulled away and ran a hand through Harry’s hair, stopping to caress his cheek lovingly. “We should probably go before we start something we don’t have time to finish,” Draco said, his warm breath dancing across Harry’s cheek. “Poppy is expecting us.”

Holding hands, they walked over to the fireplace, and seconds later they were on their way, hopefully to get the _go ahead_ to start a family.

Exiting the Floo, Harry and Draco entered the Infirmary. Poppy bustled over and greeted them warmly. “Boys, it’s so wonderful to see you again. Draco said neither of you was ill, so why the serious faces?”

“Could we go into your office to talk, Poppy?” Draco replied. “The reason for our visit is a bit sensitive and we’d prefer not to be the headlines of tomorrow’s _Prophet_.”

Poppy ushered them into her office, closed the door and sat at her desk. She folded her hands and waited for one of them to speak.

Harry flushed and looked down at the floor. “I’d like you to test me to see if I can get pregnant. I’m worried that there may be some residual damage from the war that would make it impossible.”

“Is that all that’s bothering you?” Poppy said with a smile, clapping her hands together. “I will admit that my old mind was spinning with worry.”

Draco frowned. “I didn’t mean to —”

“Tut, tut, son,” she said with a smile. “Now that I know what you need, it more than makes up for the wee bit of worry I went through. It’s been several years since anyone required this kind of help from me.”

They made small talk for a short time, until Harry’s nerves got the better of him. “Can we just get on with the tests,” he blurted out suddenly. “All this waiting is—”

“Harry!” Draco admonished. “What the dev—”

Harry’s hand shot up, half apologetic, half resigned. He turned to Poppy. “I’m sorry; I’m just so anxious to find out if I can get pregnant.”

“I understand. It would be best if Harry was not distressed during some of the tests that I need to run. Follow me. I have a private examination area in the back we can use.”

Draco stood quietly in the corner of the examination room, his attention fixed upon the mediwitch as she performed several lengthy and complicated spells on Harry. Draco had long since given up on any attempt to read the expressions on her face. While she worked, her eyes were intense and her forehead creased. Nothing about her demeanour gave any indications of her findings.

Harry looked peaceful, lying on the examination table with his eyes closed. Yet Draco could see the taught muscles as his fisted hands rhythmically opened and closed. He knew Harry was worried, but Poppy had been very specific in her instructions. He must stay on the other side of the room. He wanted to do nothing more than hold Harry’s hand for support, but he would not risk contaminating the tests.

Poppy stepped back from Harry, waving her wand as she recited a complicated incantation. When she was finished, her attention snapped towards Draco. “It will take me a few minutes to put my findings together. I suggest that you come over and sit by Harry. I don’t recall seeing him this nervous since he fought that dragon in your fourth year.” 

Swinging his legs over the edge of the table, Harry sat up. Draco sat next to him sliding his hand into Harry’s, twining their fingers together. Silently they waited for Poppy’s return. 

When she returned to the room, the air was thick with unspoken tension. She smiled widely as she gave them the good news. “Although I am slightly concerned with your iron levels, Harry, I am happy to report that you are the picture of health. It is still necessary to test your husband’s sperm motility, however, before we can discuss moving forward.” 

“There is nothing wrong with my sperm,” Draco replied indignantly. 

“I’m not questioning your virility, dearie,” Poppy said firmly. “Before I start Harry on a pregnancy potion regimen I must be absolutely certain that you are fertile.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “Now, you can continue to look affronted or you can provide me with the sample I need for testing. Which will it be?”

“Sample?”

Poppy coughed to cover up her laugh. “Yes, Draco, a sample of your sperm. I’ll leave the room to provide you with some privacy. Harry, darling, you may stay and _help_ Draco along, but please use only your hands. The sample must be fresh and saliva-free.”

“This is so humiliating,” Draco said, his head in his hands.

“For the love of Merlin, Draco,” Harry replied. “I just endured almost an hour of tests compete with wands poking in places that wands most certainly should not be poked at. I don’t think wanking for a test is too much to ask.”

Draco peeked between his fingers at Harry. “You’re right. Come on, let’s see how quickly we can get this done. Well not too quickly. I don’t want people to think I’m a quick shot or anything, but I don’t want to...”

He was cut off by Harry pulling him up from his seat and kissing him. Harry used all the tricks he knew to arouse his husband and soon Draco had supplied Poppy with her needed sample.

Two hours after they had left, Harry and Draco stumbled out of the fireplace and back into their living room. Harry slumped onto the couch and let out a long breath. He thumbed through the stack of pamphlets and books Poppy had given them to read. “Did you have any idea there was so much involved in having a baby?” 

Draco snorted back a laugh. “Excuse me? Are you asking me? Hello—”

Harry laughed as he pulled Draco onto his lap. “Ah yes, _Mr I’m Not Ready For Children_. I do seem to recall seeing you around here a couple of weeks ago.” 

Reaching for the list of potions Harry would need to start taking, Draco wondered aloud, “I hope I can convince Severus to make these for you. I just don’t trust the local Apothecary to brew these.”

Harry cuddled into Draco’s warm body. “I know I’d certainly feel better if they were brewed by someone we both know and trust. I mean at least we know Severus takes perfection to new heights with his potions.”

“Which is why I should contact him straight away,” Draco said, wriggling to free himself from Harry’s grasp. “Come on, Harry, let me go. I need to talk to Severus. The sooner we get you started on these potions, the sooner we can start our family.”

Harry let go of Draco, mumbling, “I think I liked you better when you paid more attention to me.”

Draco stopped in his tracks slowly turning to face Harry. When he spoke, his voice was very quiet. “See, this is what I was afraid of. If I pay attention to you — I’ll be neglecting our children. If I pay attention to the children — I’ll be neglecting you. I can’t fucking win.”

Harry bolted off the couch and threw himself into Draco’s arms. “Shit, Draco, that’s not what I meant. I was trying to be funny, but I reckon I hit that one a bit too close to home, huh?”

“You can’t joke about this, Harry. There’s too much at stake, and I can’t tell right now when you’re serious and when you’re having a laugh.” Draco gave Harry a quick hug and walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to call Severus from the fireplace in my study. I’ll be back shortly.”

_Well, fuck. Why do I keep putting my foot in my mouth?_ Harry wondered as he watched Draco walk away. _If we can’t even have a conversation now, what the hell will happen when hormones start flying through me? Shit!_

Harry sat dejectedly on the couch and picked up one of the books Poppy had given them to read. Apparently it was not as simple as a quick fuck for Harry to become pregnant. Besides the potion regimen, they would both need to _want_ Harry to become pregnant. _For two wizards to have a baby together, they must both want it deep within their hearts. It is when your magic is working in tandem during lovemaking that a wizard can become pregnant._

Draco walked quietly into the living room, pausing in the doorway for a few minutes to watch Harry, whose legs had stretched out until his feet rested on the coffee table. He held a book in one hand, idly rubbing his stomach with the other. Draco was quite certain he had never looked so shaggable in his life.

He crossed the room and sat on the arm of the couch, running his hand down Harry’s back. “I’m sorry I snapped at you before.”

“I’m sorry, too. I was trying to be cute. But given all that’s happening, I should remember just how scared we both are.” Harry’s voice was soft. He placed the book down next to him and looked up at Draco. “Think about it, Draco, we’re making a life. Everything will change. I know it will change for the better, but still.” 

Draco kissed the top of Harry’s head. “We can do this, Harry. Together we can do anything."

Harry smiled, wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “Did you get Severus to agree? Will he make the potions for us?”

“Well, he is quite certain that I’m off my trolley,” Draco said with a laugh. “But even though children were never really Severus’s cuppa, he has agreed to brew whatever potions we need.”

Harry snickered. “And considering your husband is probably someone he feels is most annoying, I’d say that’s quite an accomplishment.” Harry tilted his head back and was rewarded with a kiss; he sighed contentedly, pulling Draco onto his lap.

Draco picked up the book Harry had abandoned and flipped to the page Harry had marked. “Might as well read this together and figure out what we’re getting ourselves into.”

ooOOoo

After several weeks had passed without Harry conceiving, the tension in the Malfoy-Potter household grew thick enough to cut with a knife. Draco sat at work trying to figure out why things weren’t going exactly as planned. He ran down a list in his head. He knew the potions Harry was taking were perfect, they both wanted to start a family, but for whatever reason, the fates were not being kind to them.

Draco pulled out the pamphlet he had brought with him to see if it might shed some light on their current dilemma. His brow creased and the sides of his mouth dipped into a frown as he read about _common problems men have in getting pregnant_. Suddenly one of the reasons practically jumped off the page at him. 

_#6. You’re trying too hard. Often the desire to have a baby takes over every part of your life. You make love constantly because you feel you have to. Solution: Take time to put the romance back in your relationship. Remember the reasons you chose to have a baby with your spouse and make him remember them as well._

He sat for a few minutes, letting the words sink in until a brilliant idea popped into his head. Jumping up from his chair, Draco grabbed his coat from the coat stand. “I’m heading home, June,” he called out to his secretary, rushing out of his office. “If anyone needs me, I am completely unreachable until Monday morning. Have a good weekend!”

Draco hurried to the building’s designated Apparition point and waited impatiently in the queue. The second he stepped onto the pad, he felt the familiar pull of Apparition and arrived in Diagon Alley moments later. Draco raced through several shops, carefully shrinking his purchases down to place in his pockets as he scurried about. He mentally ran down the list of purchases he had made as he rushed out of the florist’s. Satisfied he had not missed anything, he Apparated home.

After checking to be sure Harry had not come home early, Draco began to set things up for the evening. If everything went as planned, the night would be an evening they both would remember. 

Draco put the champagne on ice and set the bucket at the edge of the bathtub. He arranged a vast cluster of candles around the bath, charming them to light and float in the air when Harry entered the room. 

He filled the tub with water, pouring in lemon balm and sprinkling yellow rose petals on the surface. He took a deep breath and the luscious scents filled his nostrils. Giving the room a final glance, he walked out to prepare the rest of his surprise. 

Harry arrived home, exhausted. He and his Auror team had Portkeyed to Wales and then Apparated all over Scotland — following useless leads about a ring of potion smugglers. He felt dirty, grimy, but was totally gobsmacked at the sight that greeted him. Draco stood before him, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankle and wearing midnight blue pyjama bottoms, a smile, and nothing else.

“Draco, what are you doing home? What’s going on?” 

Draco moved gracefully across the room, gathering Harry into his arms. Harry tried to pull away. “I’m filthy,” he protested.

“You’re beautiful,” Draco said, smiling. 

Harry began to laugh. “And you’re delusional. What in Merlin’s name is going on with you?”

“Us,” Draco replied, his voice barely above a whisper, placing a kiss on Harry’s forehead.

Harry looked slightly confused, his only reply an arch of an eyebrow. 

“Tonight,” Draco continued, “is all about us. We’ve been trying so hard to get you pregnant, we’ve lost sight of us—lost sight of the reasons we want to start a family. I’m just...giving us a chance to remember why this is important to us.”

Harry leaned in and kissed Draco. Draco welcoming Harry’s tongue as it slid into his willing mouth. They kissed for several minutes before Draco drew back, slowly unbuttoning Harry’s Auror robes — stopping to kiss and worship every inch of flesh as it was uncovered, all the while guiding him towards the bath.

As they entered the darkened bathroom, the candles lit and rose from the floor to hover above their heads. Draco stepped back from Harry’s embrace. After he slid off his pyjama bottoms, he cast a Warming Spell on the bath water and stepped into the steamy water. Then, reaching out a hand to help Harry into the tub, he settled them on the large seat that had been specially installed for just such an occasion.

Picking up a flannel from the side of the tub, Draco lathered it up and tenderly washed Harry’s body from head to toe. When he was finished, he crawled onto Harry’s lap and wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, pressing their torsos flush against each other and capturing their pricks between their bodies. He leaned forward for a long, slow kiss. 

Draco began to rock against Harry, their cocks sliding together easily in the fragrant water. Harry released Draco’s tongue and moved his mouth to nip at Draco’s collar bone before sliding back up his neck to suck on the tender flesh under Draco’s ear, leaving behind a darkened love bite.

Harry’s hips started thrusting rapidly against Draco’s. Harry began to moan his pleasure into his husband's ear. 

“I love you, Harry,” Draco whispered against Harry’s head, pressing his hips down and increasing the friction on their pricks. He heard Harry’s breath hitch seconds before he was shooting his release onto their chests. The wonderful whimpering sounds Harry made was enough to push Draco over the edge, and he quickly shot his orgasm, watching it mingle with his husband’s release while they swayed in the calming water. 

They both collapsed together, feeling happy and sated. Gathering his strength, Draco stood and rinsed himself off before stepping out of the tub. He quickly towelled off, wrapping the towel loosely around his hips before reaching down to help Harry out. Draco wrapped Harry in a large fluffy towel and led him to the bedroom. 

Draco pulled back the covers as he tenderly helped Harry onto the bed, letting the towels fall to the floor. Once Harry was settled, Draco Summoned the champagne bucket and glasses and set them on the bedside table. With a wave of his hand, the wireless began playing a soft romantic song and the lights dimmed. He poured a glass of champagne and placed it next to the champagne bucket before crawling onto the bed. 

Draco pressed Harry back so he was lying nearly flat, the covers pooled around his waist. Draco sat on Harry’s thighs, their pricks pressing together. Leaning over, he pulled one of Harry’s nipples into his mouth and nipped at the hardening flesh. As he sat up, he reached for his glass of champagne. Harry looked put-out until Draco raised the glass above Harry’s chest and drizzled a small amount of the bubbly liquid over his nipples.

“Fuck,” Harry yelled, bucking up at the cold sensation.

Draco smirked. “Soon enough.” 

He leaned over, lapping at the champagne running in tiny rivulets over Harry’s torso. Harry mewled softly and pushed his hips upwards. Draco chuckled as he continued to nip Harry’s nipple with his teeth, and was rewarded by a very loud moan from his partner. Once Draco had successfully worked Harry’s nipples into hard peaks, he slid his tongue across Harry’s abdomen. 

Raising the glass again, he tilted it to pour champagne on Harry’s stomach, watching it run in and around his navel. Draco pressed his mouth on the champagne-chilled skin, licking and sucking around Harry’s navel, until the champagne was gone. 

Draco sat up on his knees and nudged Harry to roll onto his stomach. As he turned, Harry raised his hips slightly to open himself up while Draco slid down the bed and rubbed his hands along the back of Harry’s thighs. He paused to run his thumbs in the crease where Harry’s legs ended and his buttocks began, his touch light and teasing.

Harry pressed his arse towards Draco in anticipation, hopeful that his desire was to be fulfilled. Draco reacted by licking along the crease, moving from Harry’s hip down to his balls, first on one side and then the other. Harry began to whimper softly when Draco’s hands started to knead his bum, sliding his thumbs closer and closer to Harry’s entrance and leaning in to exhale lightly across his heated flesh. Draco parted Harry’s arse cheeks and ran his tongue in a circle around the puckered entrance before he buried his face in his arse, plunging his tongue inside. 

Harry pushed into Draco’s face trying to get him to go deeper or suck harder, anything at all. Draco knew Harry was getting close, based on the amount of pre-come pooling on the sheets, so he slid a finger in alongside his tongue to help get him prepared. 

Once Draco was certain Harry was well-lubricated, he got onto his knees, chuckling when Harry whinged, lined up his cock slowly pressed forward.

Harry jerked away, flipping onto his back in a single, swift motion. “Wanna see you come,” he said breathily, hooking his legs over Draco’s shoulders. 

Draco smiled as he pressed forward into Harry’s welcoming body. He pulled back until only the head of his prick remained inside Harry and thrust forward forcefully, burying the full length of his cock to the hilt. He paused; Harry gasped and winced, his hands around Draco’s thighs in a tight, vice-like grip. Draco drank in his husband’s expression, and paused to let Harry get accustomed to all of him before repeating the move, this time establishing a rapid pace. He angled his thrusts downward and felt Harry shiver as his cock grazed over Harry’s prostate. He continued to thrust, finding a steady rhythm; every movement Draco made hit that sweet spot. Harry began mumbling incoherently and soon Draco was rewarded with Harry’s orgasm. 

Driving deeper with each thrust, and fuelled by Harry’s spasms, Draco leaned in for a kiss. Harry’s tongue began to mimic Draco’s movements and Draco came undone, coming deeply inside his lover. Bone weary, Draco gently lowered Harry’s legs and slid to lie on top of his body. Harry moved carefully, trying to keep Draco inside him. Unsuccessful, Harry whimpered, rolled Draco to his side and pulled him close. 

“I love you,” Harry whispered. 

“Of course you do,” Draco replied, smiling as he drifted off to sleep. 

They spent the remainder of the weekend in bed, making love, only getting up for a shower or a meal. Both Draco and Harry hoped the weekend would be magic— in more ways than one.

ooOOoo

Six weeks later....

Draco walked into his office, muttering and throwing a file against the wall. “Bloody stupid people. Of course the Galleon has dropped in value in today’s economy. The economy stinks—”

He was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Having a bad day, love?”

Startled, Draco spun around to see Harry leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk. Draco arched an eyebrow and drawled, “First off, making yourself comfortable? And second, what the fuck are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off making the world a safe place to live in?”

Harry smiled. "I resigned."

“Pardon me?” Draco replied.

“I resigned,” Harry repeated, a twinkle in his eyes. “Being an Auror is much too strenuous. Not good for the baby.”

Harry ticked off the seconds in the air with his fingers as he waited for his news to sink into Draco’s brain. 

“A BABY!” Draco screeched. “When? How? Wha—? Really?”

Harry stood and walked over to Draco. “Did you want those questions answered in order,” he said, pulling Draco close, “or were they pretty much rhetorical?” 

Draco kissed Harry softly at first, the kiss deepening as the moments passed. When they stopped, Draco rested his cheek on Harry’s head, rubbing small circles on Harry’s stomach. “Is it a boy or a girl?” he asked quietly.

“It’s a bit early to tell, Draco. Are you sure you really read through the information Poppy gave us?”

Draco blushed. “I might have skipped over some of the details; it all seemed so far away. Now you’re really pregnant.”

“And exhausted,” Harry said, covering his mouth as he yawned. “Poppy said I’ll be tired for a few more weeks, but then I should feel like myself again.”

At Draco’s insistence, Harry found himself home, tucked under a blanket on the couch. “Draco, I’m going to go bat-shite crazy if you make me stay on this couch for eight more months.” 

Draco tucked the blanket in even tighter at that and patted Harry on the top of his head. “Just rest. I have everything under control.” 

_I am a bit tired_ , Harry thought, closing his eyes. He woke a short while later to find his feet in Draco’s lap, his husband idly rubbing his ankle. 

“How do you feel?” Draco asked.

Harry sat up a bit straighter, his voice serious. “Draco, I’m pregnant, nothing more. Right now I feel fine, maybe a bit hungrier and a bit more tired, but bloody hell— don’t ask me every ten minutes how I feel. Unless I tell you, assume I feel fine, all right?”

Draco blushed. “Fair enough. It’s just—”

Harry reached down and ran his hand over Draco’s, giving it a small squeeze. “I know. Now shift up here and kiss me. Just because you knocked me up doesn’t mean a bloke doesn’t want to be shagged senseless.”

The next few weeks passed uneventfully, save morning sickness every now and again, and before they realized it, Harry was well into his second trimester. All of their friends knew about the upcoming birth and the _Daily Prophet_ was having a field day with the news. Harry had rolled his eyes at the headlines reading “The Boy Who Lived to Become a Mother”. Draco had not taken the news well and had threatened to sue them, until Harry pointed out that, for once, nothing in the article was incorrect. Reluctantly, Draco let it drop. 

Harry’s second trimester brought an end to the bouts of morning sickness and a return of Harry’s energy. This also meant that on any given day, at any given time, Harry might be looking up Draco, begging for a shag or a quick blow job. 

Late one night, Draco was sleeping after a particularly vigorous shag, when he was awakened by Harry standing next to the bed, shaking his arm. “Draco,” Harry whispered loudly. “Draco!”

Draco shot out of bed. “What’s wrong? Are you ill? Is something wrong with the baby?”

When Harry looked at the ground, Draco groaned. “Oh, bloody hell! Don’t tell me you want to shag again?”

Harry gasped and burst into tears. “You think I’m ugly,” he sobbed. “I know I’ve put on a bit of weight, but Poppy said I’m within the standard guidelines.” 

Draco stood, completely gobsmacked, looking at Harry. Even with tears streaming down his face, Harry couldn’t have looked more adorable to Draco. Draco said the first thing that came to mind: “You’re not ugly, Harry. You’re beautiful. Look at you.” 

Harry started crying even harder. “You’re just saying that because I’m a blubbering pile of hormones.” 

Draco paused, knowing that his next sentence could either end the waterworks or send Harry further into his tailspin. Deciding quickly on his next move, Draco pulled Harry into an embrace and, lovingly ran his hand up and down Harry’s back, he whispered, “Did you need something, Harry? You woke me up so what can I do for you?” Draco prayed that he was handling this correctly.

“Oh,” Harry said, wiping his nose on Draco’s pyjama top. “I want some of those Walkers Lamb & Mint Flavour Crisps.”

Draco managed to keep his voice steady when he said, “You do realize it’s three am?” 

Harry looked at Draco as if he had grown an extra head. “But I want some,” he repeated.

Draco sighed. He was beginning to regret having made an arrangement with the local grocer to meet him whenever Harry had a craving in the middle of the night. He let go of Harry and walked to the wardrobe, pulled out some track pants and a jacket. He put them on over his pyjamas, zipping the jacket, and slid his feet into his trainers. 

Harry sat on the bed, back against the headboard and smiled broadly. “Be sure to tell Mr Pulham I said hello, and thank him for meeting you at the shop.”

Draco grumbled on his way out the door. “Sure, thank the grocer. But does Draco get any thanks for getting up in the bloody middle of the night so Harry can have his disgusting crisps? No, I don’t think so!” He stopped at the fireplace and threw in some Floo powder. Placing his head in the green flames, he called out, “Mr Pulham?”

He saw the elderly grocer shuffling over to the fireplace, shrugging on and tying his robe as he walked. “Oh, hello, Mr Malfoy. Harry having another craving, is he? What is it this time? More of that Sticky Toffee pudding?”

“Sorry to wake you, Mr Pulham,” Draco replied. “Harry insists that he absolutely must have some Walkers Lamb & Mint Flavour Crisps.” 

“I’m fairly certain I have a package or two of those. Give me five minutes to go downstairs and lower the wards so you can Apparate directly inside.”

Draco smiled and stepped back from the fireplace. He waited several minutes before Apparating to the shop, and spent a few more chatting with Mr Pulham before Apparating back to the flat. 

Smiling and waving the bag of crisps in front of him, Draco walked back into the bedroom. He stopped in the middle of the room as not for the first time, Harry was curled on his side, sound asleep. Chuntering about _inconsiderate wankers_ , Draco rounded the bed and slid under the covers. 

But Draco had learnt his lesson. Days later when Harry did the same thing, Draco waited in the living room for five minutes. When he went back into the room, Harry was asleep — his craving forgotten.

As the third trimester came along, significant changes became apparent. Harry’s athletic build had given way to some _cushioning_ , as Draco liked to call it. 

The first time Draco saw the baby _slither_ across Harry’s belly, he tried to rush him to see Poppy. Once Harry convinced him that it was not unusual for this to happen, they both marveled when their little one slithered under the skin of Harry’s naked belly. Draco, however, was sure it was a miracle, known only to them. 

As Harry grew in size, the weight gain began to slow him down. Still, he had energy enough to help when Draco painted the nursery and filled it with clothes, which all seemed far too small to fit any human being. Draco insisted on having complete sets of clothing for a girl and a boy— to be on the safe side. When Harry asked him what they would do with the extra clothing Draco replied with a smile, “Whatever we don’t need we’ll donate to the orphanages, they can always use extra things,” which effectively reduced his spouse to a puddle of tears.

As Harry’s pregnancy reached thirty-eight weeks Poppy called to announce that on the following Monday, they would perform the wizard equivalent of a cesarean section to deliver the baby. After the call finished, Draco returned to the bedroom and crawled onto the bed next to Harry. 

“You all right?” Draco asked, tentatively.

Harry’s voice was quiet. “Not sure.” 

Draco placed a kiss on Harry’s stomach. “Yeah.”

“I mean, I know that this baby is ready to come out and I’m certainly ready to be able to see my toes again and to take a piss without having to sit,” Harry gave a weak chuckle. “But bugger all if I’m not scared shitless right now.”

Draco pulled him close and ran a gentle hand over their baby. In that moment, he knew that everything would be all right and that Harry and their baby’s well-being were more important than his own fears. 

Rocking Harry gently, Draco reminded him of all of his wonderful qualities. “I hope the baby has your eyes and your forgiving nature. You always look for the best in everyone.”

Harry smiled. “And I hope he has your sense of style, and I pray to the gods above that his hair is manageable.”

And in that moment, the tension they had both felt evaporated, and they talked long into the night about names and who to select as godparents. 

Monday morning found Draco and Harry at St Mungo’s in the Maternity Ward. Harry wanted to have the procedure performed at Hogwarts, but Poppy had insisted on the hospital as a precaution.

Draco was not allowed in the operating theatre; instead, he paced a hole in the waiting room floor.

“For the love of Merlin, Draco, sit down,” Severus snarled. “The alacrity of your child’s arrival is not directly proportional to the speed of your pacing.”

Pausing momentarily, Draco sneered at his old professor. “I’m quite sure that I’m allowed to be a tad bit on edge, if it’s all the same to you. Not only is my husband about to undergo surgery, we are about to become parents. Excuse me for not being able to bottle up my emotions as well as you can!” 

Draco’s tirade was interrupted when the door opened suddenly and Hermione and Ron rushed in.

Hermione pulled Draco into a hug before firing off a barrage of questions. “I’m sorry; we didn’t get your message until just now. How are you, Draco? How is Harry? Have they begun the surgery yet? Can I get you anything?” She paused when she noticed Severus off to the side. “Oh, Professor, what a surprise.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Severus replied, “Mrs Weasley, despite any appearance to the contrary, I have always supported Draco and Harry’s relationship. If I did not, I assure you I would not be present.”

Ron huffed, but Hermione sent him a dismissive wave, effectively shutting him up. She turned back to Draco and asked softly, “Is there anything we can do for you?”

Ron patted Draco on the back. “I’ll go see if there is any information, Draco.” He took one step out the door, but returned immediately—a nurse right behind him.

“Draco Malfoy?” she called out.

Draco went to her hesitantly, his face pale. 

“Congratulations, Mr Malfoy. You and Mr Potter are the proud parents of a baby boy. Father and baby are doing well and your husband is quite anxious to see you.” She handed him a pile of clothing. “Let’s get you into a gown and then you can see your new son.”

He looked at three of the people who had supported Harry and himself and found he was at a loss for words. 

“A son,” he whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek.

Ron slapped him on the shoulder, as Hermione moved to help him into his gown. “Congratulations, Draco. Give Harry our love. We’ll be waiting to see him,” she said happily, kissing Draco on the cheek.

He looked at Severus, the man who had been most like a father throughout much of his life. He looked beyond the cold façade and into dark, emotion-filled eyes, that were full of love and acceptance that Severus would never utter out loud. And understanding Severus as he did, that was enough. 

Draco smiled at him and swept out of the room to see his husband and meet their son and start a new chapter of their life.

Finis


End file.
